Tangled
by stubadingdong
Summary: post-Harbinger vignette


TITLE: Tangled  
  
AUTHOR: stub  
  
DATE: 2-14-04  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Star Trek: Enterprise belong not to me. You'll have to take up your issues with Paramount.  
  
SUMMARY: Post-Harbinger vignette  
  
***  
  
I learned a lot in the past week. Being en route to your destination with nothing to do but practice more drills, clean power conduits and generally going stir crazy...well, let's just say boredom makes people do some crazy stuff.  
  
Case in point, Malcolm Reed. He picked a fight with Major Hayes. Not a good idea on a normal day, but compound that with this nothing-to-do attitude and we had ourselves one fancy display of fireworks. Of course, I only got to hear about it second-hand from Malcolm. If you ask me, I think he overreacted about the whole situation. And I'm still not even sure what the whole situation was.  
  
Whatever.  
  
According to Amanda Cole, Malcolm and Hayes are so much alike it's a wonder those two didn't end up in bed together instead of in a fistfight. And speaking of Amanda, case in point number two. What the hell was I thinking? Neuropressure sessions? I had no business giving her those. Even now, thinking about that makes my belly knot up. I couldn't just enjoy her company without the NP stuff. No...I had to show off. I had to impress her.  
  
I'm such an idiot.  
  
I was bored. I liked the attention she was giving me. And she's hot. God is she hot. We have a lot in common, Amanda and I. I took to her instantly, though looking back over the last week, I think I just needed someone to talk to. Someone who didn't know me. Someone who wouldn't try to placate me. I just wanted an uninvolved third party. I don't know why. Maybe I didn't want my friends to see that more vulnerable side of me.  
  
Stupid, I know.  
  
Or maybe I was just hoping T'Pol would notice.  
  
Case in point number three. Looking back on it, I can admit that now. But a week ago I'd have gone to my grave denying I felt anything more than professional warmth towards the Vulcan. I think everyone but me knew I was lying. Malcolm had been trying to eek it out of me for months. The more he'd bring T'Pol up, the less I'd want to discuss her. I got angry and defensive.  
  
How could I have not even been aware of my own feelings?  
  
Boredom had nothing to do with that. But it sure had everything to do with confronting those feelings. I was giddy that T'Pol was displaying signs of jealousy over Amanda. Something in my head clicked that night. And to my surprise, it came in the form of Malcolm's voice:  
  
*"She likes you, you bloody git."*  
  
She likes me so much she had to trick me into admitting I was a little jealous myself. Of myself, no less. It was the weirdest conversation I'd ever had with her. Hell, one of the weirdest, period. T'Pol never verbally admitted her attraction to me, but when someone kisses you the way she did to me it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know the attraction is mutual. And I guess I wouldn't expect her to admit it. She is a Vulcan, after all.  
  
And let me be the first to say that whomever started those rumors that Vulcans don't feel and are passionless mannequins has never had sex with one. Dear, sweet Jesus...I thought I was going to suffocate that first time. Yes, I said the first time. T'Pol situated herself into my lap and didn't let go. That first round couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes, I hate to say. I was still in shock and incredibly turned on to think she wanted me. To have T'Pol ride me like a birthday pony...well, let's just say that all that unspoken, unresolved mutual attraction/sexual tension stuff exploded between us in an instant. All I thought about was that this was T'Pol. T'Pol! She was here, in my lap, kissing me in a way I'd never been kissed before. Jesus, I didn't even get my pants off in that first round.  
  
It happened so fast.  
  
I managed to lay her down on her bed after that. Actually remove my clothing and properly show her what it's like to go slow. Well...slower. We were so turned on that that second round didn't fare much longer than the first. By the third one, I felt like an expert with her. That third time had much potential for lasting the rest of the night. At least if it hadn't been for the tactical alert. I think I may have to start keeping a fresh uniform in T'Pol's quarters...just in case.  
  
After a typical misunderstanding the next morning, we mutually decided to forget the whole thing. We did, however, decide to continue with the neuropressure. I think we both knew at that point that this little 'incident' was only the tip of the iceberg. I returned to her quarters that night for an impromptu session. It started off fine, everything how it should be. But then I started thinking about her and the sex the previous night and the next thing I knew we'd spent the entire session making out the good old fashioned way. God that woman can do amazing things with her mouth.  
  
I also learned that my new favorite thing is her ears.  
  
And last night I stopped by T'Pol's quarters under the pretense of more NP. I think we both knew as soon as she opened the door there would be no neuropressure. One look into her dark eyes sent all the blood rushing south. She just had a robe on again. I don't doubt she was sitting there naked, waiting for me. When she opened the door, the robe wasn't even fastened...she just had it draped over her for the sake of propriety, in case a wandering crewman passed in that instant.  
  
I felt like a teenager again with T'Pol. I was hard instantly; her hands were all over me. I was in heaven. I learned last night that T'Pol has a preference for sexual relations of the oral variety. There were no klaxons to interrupt us, no aliens to capture.  
  
Just us, all night.  
  
"What are you grinning at, Commander?"  
  
Malcolm's voice startled me out of my thoughts. My head snapped up to meet his gaze.  
  
"Just thinkin'," I said. I felt guilty for thinking about her in public. Like I was betraying our secret.  
  
"About what?" he asked. Malcolm set his food tray next to mine and took a seat uninvited.  
  
I tried a casual shrug of indifference. "Just...stuff," I replied nonchalantly. "My engines."  
  
Malcolm squinted at me for a moment. "Uh huh. Your engines."  
  
I glared at him. "What?"  
  
"Nothing," he said between bites. "You seem awfully...euphoric for a man thinking about his engines."  
  
The worst thing about trying to keep a secret from your friends is that your friends know when something's up.  
  
I sighed.  
  
Malcolm smirked at me. "This wouldn't have anything to do with neuropressure would it?"  
  
I said nothing.  
  
"Amanda Cole?"  
  
I didn't even blink.  
  
"T'Pol?"  
  
At the mere mention of her name, I felt my face grow hot with a blush. I bowed my head and silently cursed my complexion.  
  
"A-ha!" exclaimed Malcolm. He was grinning like a fool. He leaned forward and jabbed his fork at me. "So, Commander...is it true that Vulcans are passionless?"  
  
I looked up at him. I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face.  
  
Malcolm nodded knowingly and took another bite of his lunch. "That's what I thought."  
  
I nodded and gave a casual glance around the Mess. No one seemed to be the wiser to this abbreviated conversation.  
  
"Don't worry, Commander," Malcolm said quietly. "I know nothing."  
  
He tossed me a quick wink and continued on with his food. I smiled to myself. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.  
  
FINIS 


End file.
